cold mountain (10)

Sitting alone. The cliffs and peaks of the self. Got lost in my own valleys. That old moon again: the shadows lengthen like a tide through the night and are longest just before dawn. Who starts at the zenith and skips the ascendance? No one. There’s an echo traveling the empty tracts and wastes. A finger trailed in the water leaves no trace. But that’s what we’ve been about all along, me and the dark minnows kissing my heels. Chiaroscuro of waking life, it’s what isn’t in the light that makes the remainder so alluring.



2 comments on “cold mountain (10)

  1. Kevin Kim says:

    So I ran the poem through Google Translate, braced for impact, and got the following hilarious result:

    Independent sit-in before the rock
    Garden Month Hall Tin Yiu
    The Vientiane video now
    One of this license
    Kuoran God since the Qing
    With virtual hole mysterious
    Refers to are reflected in its monthly
    January is the heart of hub to be

    Sounds vaguely obscene! Is the poem still meant to be read in columns, or did you have to type it in rows?

  2. seon joon says:


    This is *great.* I especially love “with virtual hole mysterious.” I typed the poem in rows, and it’s meant to be read that way–forgot to mention the format change–because trying to line up columns daunted me.

    I’ve never used Google translate, although I’ve heard of similarly hilarious results. I may have to start doing this just for fun…as soon as the headaches subside.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s